Ferek's Story
by Word of a Sayre
Summary: A tale from before the Freefolk, when rebellious Underfolk were sparse and the uprising was only about to begin. In the quest to save a loved one, Ferek finds himself far away from what he's always known. (COMPLETE)
1. Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note**: I've been intending to write this for God knows how long, and the other day I got a Composition Book (SO COOL)… and I thought, "Hey, I'll write Ferek's Story." So I began.

Ever wonder what had happened to Ferek? The boy who was always twitching, and it mentioned that he'd been in the Hall of Nightmares before? I certainly did. So I devised this fanfic… voila—Ferek's story.

This is pretty short—it has three chapters total. Enjoy. .

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Nope. Except Tari and Ikarik.

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Ferek's Story

-Word of a Sayre-

Chapter One

Sweet Dreams

She was cold.

Her skin was clammy and wet, her unkempt hair clinging to her pale face as her breath came in short, shivering gasps. Blankets were piled atop her shivering form and her eyes were shut against the pain of Chill.

And beside the bed in a tiny chair, a boy of about ten watched helplessly. He had messy brown hair and bright blue eyes and wore something that looked like a pillowcase or a ratty sheet. Eyes bright with tears, Ferek stared at his sister, the last pieces of hope in his mind slowly beginning to crack and shatter.

Only a few days before, Tari had been healthy as ever, parading the Underfolk levels with her usual spunk and optimistic attitude. She lived alone with her little brother Ferek in a small room in the Lower Halls, which was perfectly fine for them. Ever since their parents had died, Tari and Ferek were very close, working together to continue their life as they were happy with it. Ferek never questioned his position as an Underfolk, because Tari never complained and always seemed content.

But two days ago, Ferek had returned to their shelter from his working position to find Tari unconscious on the floor, her skin colder than ice.

Now she lay before him on the small bed. Tari hadn't opened her eyes since Ferek had found her, and the self-appointed Caretaker of the Underfolk, Ikarik, had said that Tari was struck with Chill. This disease was rare, and as most diseases classified as such, it was consequently deadly. Chill had originated in Aenir and been carried by Spiritshadows into the Castle. This disease froze a person from the inside out, as though by strange Aeniran magic, and there was only one known cure.

The cure was a simple idea that had just happened to work. It was the blood of a Cavernmouth, for the beast's blood always boils but does not burn a human. If one with Chill drinks the blood, the freezing cold inside them melts, and they become well once more.

However, because the disease was so rare and because Cavernmouth's blood was difficult to obtain, the medicine was produced in extremely short supply… and kept exclusively for the Chosen.

Ikarik had gone to the Caretaker of the Chosen that morning to ask for the antidote, but had been sent away with a scorning and mild beating. According to the Chosen, a mere Underfolk was perfectly expendable and unworthy of the hard-to-obtain cure. Ikarik had returned, bruised, and by the look in his eye Ferek knew exactly what had happened. He had secretly expected it, after all.

"I'm sorry, Ferek," Ikarik had said upon his return, a mournful look on his pallid face. "Your sister will die without a vial of that medicine."

Ferek was beyond tears then, and just nodded in trembling shock. Finally, those shards of hope inside him were reduced to dust.

_Tari was going to die._

He knelt by the side of her bed and cried fitfully, "What am I supposed to do, Tari?"

Ferek buried his face in the cold sheets, shaking all over, begging his sister's cold form to suddenly sit up, ruffle his hair playfully, and ask, "Whatcha cryin' for, little brother?"

But all that came was the soft prodding of something at Ferek's cheek.

Looking up from the blankets, Ferek's watery eyes focused on a winged black creature that had perched upon the bed near Tari's arm. It was Rornir, Tari's ever-faithful crow companion. Tari had found him with a broken wing in the Underfolk levels one day, most likely abandoned by some careless Chosen. She'd nursed him back to health, and ever since, the bird hadn't left her side, almost like a Spiritshadow.

"Rornir," Ferek muttered, swatting at the bird, who squawked and jumped back, fluttering his wings in annoyance. "Go away… she won't wake up."

Rornir impatiently flapped his wings again, and Ferek propped himself up on his elbows to look at the bird. His beady eyes peered back at Ferek, and the boy saw in the bird the same pressing sadness that he felt. In despair he stroked Rornir's feathers, crying, "I'm sorry… I can't do anything…"

The crow was still looking at him, and then squawked and pushed his head against Ferek's arm, as if willing him to get up.

And it was then that he was struck with an idea.

Ferek realized that if the Chosen would not give them the antidote, they could still take it…

He could steal it.

Leaping to his feet from his position beside the bed, Ferek felt his excitement grow. He knew where the Caretaker's Hall on the Red Level was—he'd worked there a few times before (well, cleaned it, but that was beside the point). There was rarely anyone there, and it would be easy to slip in, find the vial, and come back before anyone questioned a young Underfolk in the halls…

Hands trembling in anticipation and nervousness, Ferek gave Rornir a pat on the head and darted out the door.

As he left, Ikarik came into the room and witnessed the boy's departure. It didn't take the old man long to figure out where Ferek was going, and he sighed sadly, knowing that it was almost futile.

Tari would be dead within an hour, and if Ferek did not make great haste, he would be too late.

* * *

The halls and chambers of the Underfolk levels were rather empty late in the day. Most workers were heading home, or else working on the higher Towers of the Castle. Ferek inconspicuously made his way to the Red Stairs, which led into the lower chambers of the Red Level.

The stairs were bright and very majestic compared to the Underfolk levels, and still Ferek was intimidated. He'd never been beyond the Underfolk levels without Tari, and he worried that anyone who saw him would be suspicious, and…

Briskly shaking his head, Ferek shrugged off the thoughts and charged up the stairs. He need not bear qualms—the Caretaker's Hall was very close to the stairs, for Red was not an extremely large level.

Ferek slowed and turned the corner into a wide corridor, lavishly decorated with an assortment of red things. For the second-lowest level of the Castle, it was still impressive, and Ferek snorted to imagine what Violet was like.

He wanted desperately to run as fast as he could to the Caretaker's Hall, for all his thoughts were of his sister and how little time she may have. But Ferek couldn't look suspicious, and he restrained to a quick-paced walk.

The corridor opened up to a wide chamber with several doors on its four walls. These led out to most of the Chosen of the Red Level's homes, but the one directly across from Ferek was the entrance to the Caretaker's Hall, labeled with a makeshift wooden plank with "Medicine" painted across it in red letters.

Ferek crossed the chamber quickly, footsteps echoing. A Chosen passed through another door, but did not spare a glance. The red-robed man held his nose in the air and 'harrumphed' as he strode past. Not that Ferek minded; he was glad he went unobserved.

The hallway he entered was narrower and less decorative, and Ferek found himself more prone to getting lost in this bland scenery than before…

But before despair took hold of him, Ferek burst into a small room lit by a little Sunstone on the ceiling. The room's walls, however, couldn't be seen—they were hidden completely by shelves chock-full of vials, bottles, and jars, all filled with liquid or pills.

By some strange, smiling luck, Ferek had ended up exactly where he needed to be—in a medicine storage room.

In a flash he was at the base of the nearest shelf, searching frantically for something that he expected to be red in color, or else labeled as a cure for Chill…

There were bottles and pills in all different shapes, colors, and sizes, but as Ferek searched they all looked the same. He was only focused on finding the cure, but it was nowhere in sight.

Ferek moved to the second shelf and began pushing the bottles aside and searching. Still nothing. Heart pounding in his chest, Ferek turned to the last shelf.

And there he found great relief, for sitting there was a small vial of red, bubbling liquid labeled "Chill". At the sight of it, Ferek felt tears prick his eyes—it was alright; he'd found the Cavernmouth's blood and Tari would be okay…

With trembling hands he grabbed the vial, holding it close for a moment, as though it were his sister herself. It was warm and comforting, and with a trembling sigh of relief, Ferek turned to leave.

He hadn't noticed the Chosen's shadow darken the doorway as he'd searched the shelves. He hadn't heard the man's low growl as his eyes narrowed and his lips curled back in a snarl.

And now, too late, Ferek saw him—the Caretaker of the Chosen, draped in red robes, an angry scowl across his thin face. "What are you doing here, boy?"

All the relief and hope Ferek had found was drained away and replaced by terrible fear. "I-I… please, sir—it's for my sister… she's…"

"Underfolk have no need for Chosen medicines. If your sister is dying then let her—you can take over her work. Underfolk aren't allowed here when not assigned work, and that in itself is worthy of severe punishment."

Ferek was on his knees, submissive and begging. "She needs it… for Chill…"

As he spoke the Caretaker pulled out a Sunstone, holding it out in front of him. Ferek gasped and rolled to the side, narrowly missing a Red Ray of Destruction.

A barrage of bottles and medicines fell from the shelves and pelted Ferek's back as he struggled to get up in the clearing smoke. Staggering slightly, he ran past the Caretaker and into the hall, with the vial clutched tightly in his small hand.

He didn't get far. The Caretaker stepped out of the storage room, grinning in satisfaction, and shot another Red Ray down the hall. Ferek ran blindly and looked back just for a moment to greet the Ray, which hit him in the shoulder and sent him sprawling to the floor.

The boy screamed at the blossoming pain as his skin was seared and his clothing burned, curling up on the floor to fight it. Ferek tried to scramble to his feet, but the Caretaker was upon him and struck him viciously across the head.

Crying out weakly again, Ferek felt dizzy after the blow grazed his temple. The world began to spin and fade around him.

"Defiance of the Chosen Authority, as well as larceny," the Caretaker was saying, though Ferek was too dazed to hear. "Fashnek will like this…"

Ferek lost consciousness then, one last thought crossing his mind…

_I'm sorry, Tari…_

_

* * *

_

A sensation of cold all over his body brought Ferek back to his senses. At first he thought his eyes weren't working correctly, but he slowly realized that they had indeed focused, and he was simply surrounded by darkness.

He got to his hands and knees, nauseated by the violent, stinging pain of the burn spreading across his back and shoulder. Grimacing, he glanced around, but saw nothing.

Suddenly, a light flashed all around him, and Ferek shielded his eyes with his arm. When his eyes adjusted, he looked around cautiously.

He was sitting inside what seemed to be a glass sphere lined with tiny Sunstones, which had lit up and caused the brilliant flash. Strange machinery was rooted to the bottom of the sphere.

Ferek's realization of where he was came quickly and filled him with terror. He'd only heard stories of the place and seen pictures in history books that told of criminals… he'd never expected to end up there himself…

It was the Hall of Nightmares.

"So, you're awake now."

At the voice, Ferek gasped and jumped backwards, pressing his neck and shoulder against the cold glass and ignoring the pain of his burn. From the darkness outside the sphere stepped a creature so repulsive and terrifying that Ferek had to fight to keep from being sick.

It was a man for the most part, though his skin was pale and tinted a splotchy green and his eyes were beady, sinking into his skull like olives. His teeth were small and rotten, and the canines shone in the dim light, sharper than natural.

It was the other half that made Ferek sick, for that half was basically missing. Where the man's arm should have been, a pincer-shaped arm of Shadow protruded. His shoulder and a great portion of his midsection including part of his leg were also completely formed of what Ferek realized to be the man's Spiritshadow.

It was Fashnek, the Master of Nightmares.

He hobbled closer until his face was nearly pressed against the glass, squinting down at the trembling boy like a predator inspecting his prey. Ferek could see torn flesh and strange movements of blood and internal organs where his skin met shadow, and he tried not to look, cowering back.

Fashnek's mouth pulled back into a sick grin, and suddenly a sort of hissing sound filed the inside of the globe. Ferek became aware that air was leaking in through tiny holes at his feet, and it smelled sweet and almost relaxing. Still, Ferek knew of its evil intentions and tried not to breathe.

Regardless, he soon began to feel dizzy and tired, collapsing to his hands and knees again. Above him, Fashnek gave a low, dry laugh.

"It's futile, boy. Sweet dreams."

Darkness slowly began to cloud Ferek's mind once more, and with a cry he fell forward in a slump against the cold bottom of the sphere.

But before he went completely unconscious, he heard Fashnek's last, cold words.

"Your sister is dead."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Eek, my introductory chapters aren't always too great. ; It gets better, though. D I love Ferek. Review, please!


	2. Nightmare

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Author's Note: Hroom. Not much to say… err, I lurve Seventh Tower? =D AND SAY HELLO TO CROW! ^-^ 

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Disclaimer: Still down own 'em… I'll be sure to notify you all if I ever do.

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Chapter Two

Nightmare

Darkness.

Ferek's eyes slowly fluttered open. His whole body was covered in a strange tingling sensation, and he shivered. Slowly, the world around him began to focus, and Ferek sat up. Putting a hand to his forehead, he felt dizzy and sick.

He was sitting in an old whitewash room in a dirty bed, tangled in the sheets. It was vaguely familiar, though Ferek's ill head was still muddled…

Ferek suddenly heard someone approached the room. He spun around, caught in the sheets, and fell to the floor with a thud, not realizing that he didn't feel a thing.

And then he realized where he was: the Underfolk Caretaker's Hall.

Scrambling to his feet, Ferek untangled himself from the mess of blankets and looked back at the bed. It was the same bed in which Tari had lay, but it was empty now. Where had she gone?

Terrified that the Chosen had taken her, Ferek cried out and ran to the door, mind racing with a thousand thoughts—is_ she alive, where is the vial, how did I get here…?_

Ferek threw open the door and ran straight into her.

From the floor he stared at Tari in shock. It was her, standing there, looking down at him in playful confusion. Her red hair fell gently around her soft features.

Ferek couldn't move. The last he remembered, he'd been in the Hall of Nightmares… and now this? Ferek shook his head in disbelief. Perhaps they'd let him out, and Tari had somehow been healed…

The older girl grinned but said nothing. Ferek, unable to control himself, leapt up ad hugged her 'round the waist and began to cry. "Tari!"

For a moment she just smiled, her hands resting lightly on the boy's shoulders. Then her arm moved the slightest bit, and Ferek only had one terrible glimpse of the sharp, silver dagger in her hand…

He didn't feel something that could quite be described as pain. He felt the dagger slip between his shoulder blade and spine and he felt his flesh tearing, but all that came to Ferek's senses was the cold, cold steel.

But his heart pounded in shock and fear and his eyes were wide as his arms released the girl and he staggered backwards. No blood came from the wound in his back, but he could feel the dagger lodged there. Tari—or the thing that looked like Tari—merely stared at him, a calm and somehow sadistically pleased expression on her face.

"Tari?"

And suddenly the red-haired girl's placid eyes shot open wide and her mouth split into a fanged grin. Tari's pupils narrowed into catlike slits. Her skin paled as though all her blood had bee drained away, and then began to…

Ferek gasped and scurried backwards against the far wall. Tari's skin had begun to… _split_… along jagged lines that appeared on her cheeks, arms, neck, and legs. They ran along the whole of her body like worms, spitting shadow that oozed over her skin and threatened to envelop her.

She shattered.

Tari's form split into a thousand shards, breaking along the worm-lines and falling to jagged pieces of shadow on the floor. Ferek's breath hitched in his throat and he was crying, though he didn't realize it himself.

For a moment Ferek merely stared at the crackling, simmering pile of what had been Tari. He was breathing hard and willing himself to move, but his body refused to obey. As he stared, Ferek slowly began to realize that the shards were moving… no, not only that… they were growing.

Pulsing and trembling, they were doubling in size every few seconds. Their surfaces were moving like water, changing shape and sprouting what appeared to be arms and legs…

Ferek screamed and finally found it in him to get to his feet. The boy looked frantically left and right, but somehow the doors and windows were gone as though they'd melted into the wall.

Before him, the pieces of the Tari-creature had become a thousand vicious Spiritshadows, bug-like and covered in extra limbs and pincers. From what Ferek assumed to be their faces came a low gnashing sound, and they all stank of decay and age.

He had long since realized where he was and what was happening, but it was then that it dawned on him completely—this was some horribly lifelike dream Fashnek was controlling, and the Hall of Nightmares had him.

"She's dead," one of the insect Spiritshadows spat. "Dead, dead, dead…" The thing bore Fashnek's voice.

An image of Tari appeared in the center of their black mass. She was pale and obviously cold, holding her arms around herself. Ferek wanted to run to her, but in an instant the Spiritshadows had toppled her and she fell into their claws. A terrible ripping sound followed, accompanied by Tari's scream, and a stream of crimson shot into the air, bloody and bright…

On his knees again, Ferek could not move nor scream. Two of the insects crept to his side and pinned him down before he realized what was happening.

"Your sister is dead. Your sister is dead. Your sister is dead."

_"Tari!"_

Then the Spiritshadows advanced on him, overtaking him in a mass of black. Ferek screamed, or at least tried to, but the moment he opened his mouth something leapt inside and crawled down his throat. Then another, and another…

The Spiritshadows surrounded Ferek; he was being tossed about in a sea of them. They shrank and crawled inside him through his ears and mouth. Slowly they tore away his clothing until he was bare and exposed, feeling the tiny hairs on the insects brush against him all over.

Ferek then felt them bite him; they sunk their pincers deep into his naked flesh. Again there was no pain, only cold and the sharp tingling. But this time Ferek could see himself bleeding. His innards spilled out of a gash in his stomach and the insects fed greedily upon them, slurping and laughing…

A Spiritshadow began to feed upon Ferek's exposed heart, and the boy's consciousness was shattered, and all the things that made him Ferek fell apart.

~*~

Outside the globe, Fashnek felt Ferek's spirit break. It was as though his mind had simply snapped, and Fashnek smiled, recalling the minds of thousands before the boy breaking in turn. This had been his goal, and now his task was complete.

He scuttled to the machine and touched his human hand to a large Sunstone upon it. The globe slid open with a whir and a hiss, exposing the crumpled boy inside.

Ferek was slumped in a heap against the bottom of the sphere, trembling and twitching violently. He was indeed unconscious, but his eyes were open wide, pupils dilated and blank.

_Children are always so easy to break_, thought Fashnek in satisfaction as he pulled Ferek to the floor. The boy did nothing as his head hit the hard tile.

"Take him back to the Underfolk levels," Fashnek said aloud, seemingly to himself or the shadows. Two men stepped out from behind another machine.

Both of them wore tattered red robes, and both were definitely Chosen, but their eyes were glazed and they said nothing intelligible. For these two were also prisoners who had lost their minds to the nightmares within the globe, now slaves to Fashnek's will.

They grabbed Ferek briskly by the shoulders and hauled him upright, dragging him along the ground. Fashnek nodded approvingly and they left though a large door. Behind the two men, their small Spiritshadows followed.

~*~

Ferek could see, but he couldn't think, and his ears only heard echoes and sounds that weren't real.

As he was dragged through several hallways and down steep staircases, Ferek heard the sounds of gnashing insect pincers. He saw blood all over himself, his innards spilling out, and black swarms surrounding him. These illusions paralyzed him with fear and kept him in his coma. 

_Your sister is dead. Your sister is dead. Your sister is dead…_

Somewhere, far in the recesses of his mind, Ferek was screaming. He watched the men drag him but did not see them clearly. He heard them mumble and grunt but only heard pincers and Tari's cries of pain.

_Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead!_

One of the men's Spiritshadows trotted up beside them so Ferek could see it in the corner of his eye. It truly had a doglike shape, with shadowy paws and droopy ears, but in Ferek's mind it was different. It was disgusting and hairy, with sharp pincers and gnawing insect jaws and horrible beady eyes—

Every muscle in Ferek's body tensed and his eyes lost their blank stare, coming into focus. He tried to scream but threw up instead, turning his head to the side and coughing as he was dragged.

The men both let go of him in surprise, and Ferek fell to the ground, choking, screaming, and vomiting. He whirled around and saw both Spiritshadows a distance away, both moving their evil claws and scuttling closer on their thin, hairy legs…

Ferek screamed again and blindly got to his feet, abandoning the men and charging down the hall. He ran through the maze of the Underfolk corridors, recognizing none, psychotic and driven by fear.

_She's dead!_

Pincers, blood, innards, Tari's dagger.

He couldn't even recall the burning pain in his shoulder from the Caretaker's Red Ray.

_Insect shadows crawling down his throat, hairs all over his naked body._

As he ran every shadow around him seemed to leap out at Ferek, and, crying, he pressed on, stumbling out of control.

The boy with the feathered cap stepped into the hall and had no chance. The moment he turned around, he was hit head-on by the boy who'd been sprinting full-speed through the corridor.

Both boys fell over, Ferek on top. The smaller boy screamed and swatted at the capped boy, desperately trying to disentangle himself.

The tall boy dislodged himself and Ferek fell to his hands and knees. He was obviously tired beyond imagination, breathing hard and trembling all over. Ferek wanted to run, but he couldn't move.

"Are you alright? Slow down next time, kid."

The voice was distant and Ferek looked up. He saw a distorted image of a tall, thin boy with pale hair and a cap donned with a black feather.

Like a feather from Rornir…

"Kid…?"

Ferek whimpered, crying and sobbing. "Help… she's dead… she's dead and they're coming. They'll cut me and go inside me and—"

He suddenly gagged and lurched forward, vomiting again, coughing and gasping. The other boy's eyes widened in surprise and he stepped back.

"Please…"

Ferek moaned and began to fall over, but the other boy jumped and caught him. Ferek's head flopped uselessly back as the tall boy held him, looking him over in concern and confusion.

Though the small boy was unconscious, his eyes were still open and he trembled and shook. He was pale, smelling of vomit, though the tall boy could sense something else… something sickly-sweet and relaxing, so easily distinguished from all other smells. 

The boy smelled like Bennem had after returning from the Hall. The tall boy sighed in sadness and anger. "The Chosen do such things to children? I should stick them in that horrible place and see how they can deal with it, let alone a boy like this…"

Ferek groaned, and the other boy picked him up. Though he was reluctant, he couldn't just leave the kid there. He, driven mad by the Nightmare, would end up being killed or, haphazardly or not, killing himself.

In his dream, the shadows were receding a bit, though their presence remained. They couldn't get Ferek now that he was safe with this other boy… Ferek felt a bit warmer and no longer heard the slicing pincers or the slurping insects.

He gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed, one hand clutching at the other boy's shirt. The boy with the feather blinked but didn't really mind, vaguely wondered if Bennem had felt this strange protectiveness inside when he'd been well…

Ferek slipped into a real, genuine sleep, free of nightmares and granting much-needed relief. 

~*~

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Author's Note: One more chapter after this. ^-^; Whee… review, please? *begs like an idiot and tempts you with chocolate*


	3. Founding of the Freefolk

Author's Note: Here you have it—the last chapter of Ferek's Story. Please enjoy, and REVIEW…

Disclaimer: Still don't own them. I'll notify you if I ever do.

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Chapter Three

Founding of the Freefolk

Ferek lay in a bed a few feet away from the older boy he'd run into. The boy was silent, and he didn't toss and turn as the other had expected him to—he'd seen the effects of the Hall of Nightmares on people, and they'd been in spasms for hours. This boy was strong.

The older boy stood by the sink. He wet a cloth, and after wringing it out with his thin hands, the boy went to Ferek's bedside and placed the damp cloth upon his forehead.

Twitching slightly, Ferek's head lolled sleepily to the side. A bruise had blossomed near his temple and a burn spread across his back—a common wound from a Sunstone's ray.

A bead of water dripped from the cloth, running down the side of Ferek's nose and hanging there like a tear. When the other boy leaned down to wipe it away, the child's eyes opened, swiveling and wide with uncertainty.

"Welcome back."

Ferek gingerly rubbed his eyes and winced at the pain in his shoulder. "Where am I… who are you?"

"You're in the Underfolk levels. My name is Crow," he said, and nodded as though to indicate the feather in his lopsided hat. "Are you alright? You were sick."

Crow deliberately did not mention the Hall of Nightmares so as not to awaken the fear within the boy. Still, as Crow watched him, Ferek would shake and twitch every few seconds involuntarily. Crow pursed his lips—he knew the effects of the Hall, and it had certainly left its mark here.

"I… I think so," Ferek replied, shuddering. A silent fear rested inside him, and Ferek struggled to suppress the memories of earlier hours.

The boy who called himself Crow gave a weak smile. "Good… what's your name, boy?"

"Ferek."

Crow nodded. "You ran into me in the corridor. You've been unconscious for a few hours now. I… I've an idea of where you were running from, but… how did you get there?"

For a moment the child was silent. His eyes downcast, he swallowed a few times before he began, and when he did speak his voice was shaky and weak. Ferek told Crow everything, from the night he'd found Tari on the floor to the Hall of Nightmares. He even told of the insect shadows and all that they'd done to him. Crow listened quietly all the while, and deep inside him his hatred towards the Chosen grew. _A child. They did this to a child._

Once Ferek had finished, he slumped down into the sheets and willed away the tears.

"Where had your sister been held?" Crow asked tentatively.

Ferek looked up at him. "Caretaker's Hall… I should go back." He twitched again. "I should go back and see if… there's anything I can…"

"No," Crow retorted, his voice gentle yet forceful. "You're still weak, and we can't have you sick again."

"But, Tari—"

Crow frowned. "I'll go for you, alright? You're a mess. I'll go and get some sort of herbs from the Caretaker for you and ask about your sister."

"I should go with you…"

"It's alright. You will…"

The door opened, and a large, burly man stepped into the room. A girl led him by the arm. She had long black hair and said nothing, but she nodded almost sadly to Crow and led the man to a chair. He sat down slowly, and only then did the girl release his arm and leave once more.

"Bennem." Crow got up and went to him, hugging the man gently round the shoulders. Ferek thought it odd that the man did not return the gesture. "This is my older brother," Crow told Ferek without looking up. "He's… he's had a similar experience to yours."

Ferek said nothing, but a shudder wracked his body.

Releasing Bennem, Crow stood and looked back at the boy in the bed. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Bennem will wait with you until I return."

Ferek trembled and nodded, though inside he would have much rather gone along. He would feel much safer that way. He cast a glance at Bennem, who hardly seemed to blink.

Before he could protest again, Crow left the room, and Ferek was left alone with Bennem. He shrunk down in the sheets and peered around though frightened eyes, trembling again despite himself.

All around him the shadows darkened, growing and reaching out towards him. Ferek whimpered and pulled the blankets tighter, but the shadows kept coming, closer and closer, forming their horrible claws and pincers.

Bennem sat in his chair and watched Ferek, silent and emotionless. He saw but did not register anything around him, for he was lost in a dream of his own.

"Come back, Crow," Ferek cried.

He curled up in defense against the nightmare.

* * *

Crow did not want to fetch herbal tea from the Caretaker's Hall to calm Ferek's nerves—that was merely his excuse to go to the place. Granted, he knew he'd return with some anyway, for it was useful. It had worked wonders for Bennem the first time he'd returned from the Hall of Nightmares. However, it had done little the second—not than anything could do much at all.

In truth, Crow questioned Ferek's tale. He didn't doubt that the boy was telling the truth—his tearful eyes had held no lie—but he wanted to see if Tari was truly dead. If not, he could return the boy to her, and with he Ferek would grow well again with time. If she had died… Crow had an idea of what he could do, but the boy would not heal easily without her.

As he thought of Ferek's condition and what had been done to him, Crow felt the hatred well up inside him once more—a cold, tight hand around his heart.

_Why?_

He was a child. A child, protecting someone he cared for—the only one left in the world for him. And the Chosen had given him the worst punishment next to death—the Hall of Nightmares. Perhaps death would even be easier to cope with.

He hated them—the Chosen. He hated them for what they did to the Underfolk—to Bennem and Ferek, and all the others who'd suffered such a fate. In his fury, Crow simply wished he could overthrow them all—a feat not so easily accomplished.

But was there anything he could do?

Crow himself was naught but a mere Underfolk.

Alone, he had no power.

Frowning deeply, Crow entered the Caretaker's Hall. He'd been there plenty of times before, mostly for Bennem. Still, the first time he'd ever been there had been when his parents died, and the memory had never quite faded.

Crow felt the familiar pain when he entered the room and saw the par of beds in which his parents had died after their accident at work. Taking a deep breath, he ignored it and looked away.

"Ikarik," Crow called, knowing the self-appointed Caretaker of the Underfolk would be nearby.

Soon enough, the old man poked his head through the door from the other room. "Hello, m'boy… something for your brother, I presume…?"

"Ahh… I suppose you could say that. Some of that tea… but more than usual. Actually, I have a few questions for you. Do you mind?"

Ikarik nodded, cheerful to have a visitor besides someone gravely ill or wounded. "Certainly. Please come sit down; I'll fix the tea."

Crow entered the next room and sat down in a threadbare chair pushed up against the wall. Ikarik busied himself with various liquids and spices at the counter.

After a strange silence, Crow began slowly, "Do you know of a boy named Ferek?"

The older man paused, nearly dropping the spice jar in his hand. "Yes… yes. Ferek… he ran out nearly a day ago. I suppose he wanted to save his sister… when he returns, I'm quite afraid he's too late."

With an inaudible sigh, Crow nodded. "I… I see. What happened?"

Ikarik proceeded to tell most of what had befallen Ferek and his sister. Crow listened politely though he'd heard most of it from the boy himself. What he truly wanted to ear was what had become of Tari herself.

"The Chosen came and took her. She was near-dead; I assume they finished her off. I wonder why they came? That's certainly never happened before, but I reckon it has something to do with that poor boy. What sort of trouble did he go and get himself in…? I hope he's all right, now…"

"He's alright for the most part," Crow explained Ferek's plight and experience in the Hall of Nightmares. Ikarik stared as though his eyes would fall out. "The boy is staying with me… he's safe."

"Poor boy. Poor boy." Ikarik muttered and shook his head. "It's too much for him. It was too much for your older brother…"

"It's too much for anyone!" Crow shouted, suddenly clenching his fists. "Bennem dealt with it twice. Ferek's just a child. The Chosen… they can't continue to do these things. Not to anyone."

Ikarik nodded solemnly. "Aye, right…" Crow could tell that the man didn't think there was anything they could do, however, as Ikarik finished mixing the tea. He put it in a container and handed it to Crow. "Good day, then. Best hope to the boy. You yourself may want to try some of that tea… calms the nerves, y'know."

Crow thanked him rather bitterly and left. He decided that he also hated the Underfolk that were too afraid to do anything for themselves.

* * *

He could hear the boy's screams from down the hall.

As soon as Crow turned the corner he realized his mistake. He'd left Ferek alone after all he'd been through, and Bennem couldn't do a thing…

Crow broke into a run and burst through the door. "Ferek!"

In the bed, Ferek thrashed about as though possessed, tangled in the sheets. He screamed, cried, and trembled, but as Crow ran to the bedside, his spasm half-subsided, and Ferek lay shaking in the blankets.

Crow took him briskly by the shoulders and pulled him upright, unwrapping the blankets. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry," Ferek sobbed, knuckling away his tears. "The shadows—like in the Hall of Nightmares…"

Again Crow cursed himself for leaving. He'd seen Bennem after he came back from the Hall of Nightmares—when his older brother had been left alone, he would relive instances of whatever horrible nightmare Fashnek had locked him in. Since then, Bennem was rarely alone.

"I should have known," Crow said to himself angrily, easing Ferek back into the bed. "Forgive me."

Behind them, Bennem had stood up and was staring at them, worry in his eyes. He couldn't comprehend what had happened, but his instinct didn't like it. Crow went to him and lowered him back down. "It's alright. It's okay now."

Bennem seemed to relax. Crow sighed and went back to sit on the bedside; Ferek had control himself by then, though his hands still trembled no matter how tightly Ferek clutched the sheets. He was sitting up, his gaze lowered and his sandy brown hair hanging in his face. Such a coward I am, he thought. Crying when I'm alone—and Bennem was here, even. But… the shadows…

"Here."

Ferek jumped and looked up. The older boy had poured a cup of Ikarik's tea. Ferek took it gingerly. "It doesn't taste perfect, but it works…"

"Thank you," Ferek's voice was small. He sipped the warm drink and found it bitter, but Crow was right—the texture and scent were greatly soothing, and he sighed.

"I… I think you're going to have to stay here for a while. If you'd be alright with it, that is," Crow added quickly and paused. "Ikarik… he told me your sister really is gone. I'm sorry."

Ferek's eyes clouded with tears, but he held them back. Crow's words only confirmed what he already knew—what Fashnek had whispered—and there was no use mourning here and now. Instead, he merely nodded and said weakly, "I don't think I can live alone… but I don't want to burden you…"

"No," Crow replied, and Ferek thought he saw the faintest of gentle smiles on the older boy's face. "No. It's all right. We couldn't just turn you out now."

Ferek was about to protest, but Crow shook his head once more. Ferek nodded and thanked him wholeheartedly, though he still felt awkward, having only met Crow. He is so kind to me, Ferek thought.

A brief silence. Ferek sipped at his tea and asked tentatively, "What… what did Ikarik say about Tari?"

Crow hesitated. Would it be right to tell Ferek exactly what the Caretaker had said? Yes… yes, it was best if the boy knew the truth. "He said the Chosen came and took her. She was already near death… he assumes they took her to finish her off, and to prevent any more interference…this was after you were caught."

Again Ferek didn't speak for a moment. Then he sighed and stated, "I suppose they had a right to. I… I broke their laws, and they had to punish me—us. Tari and I. I should have never tried…" he sniffled, but no tears fell. "…to steal that medicine."

"What?" Crow gaped. After all the Chosen had done to him, Ferek was going to stand idly by and claim it was his own fault? "Ferek… Ferek, you're wrong. It's not your fault."

"It is." Ferek's hands curled tighter around the sheet and he hunched his shoulders. "If I hadn't left Ikarik and Tari to find the cure…"

"The Chosen had it in supply and they wouldn't give it to you. She was the last person you had, Ferek, wasn't she?"

At this, Ferek nodded and rubbed at his eye. "But if she was going to die… the Chosen are right. We're just Underfolk."

Crow leapt from his seat. The cold-hearted half of him longed to lash out and strike the boy. How wrong Ferek was! But Crow held back—this boy had dealt with enough pain. Restraint obvious in his voice, Crow retorted, "If that is so, then the Chosen are Underfolk as well. How are we different? What puts us below them?"

"We aren't of any Order. We're below them… servants, slaves… colorless in their eyes." Ferek's' voice was indifferent then, though his eyes shone with discontent.

Crow felt his chest tighten with the cold hand of hatred once more. He opened his mouth to say something, but the hatred had somehow taken all his words. Ferek looked up at him.

"Tari was happy. She didn't mind being an Underfolk, so I never did, either."

The older boy took a deep, hesitant breath and ran a hand through his dirty hair. Crow sat down again and said, "You may have been happy then. I was the same once… but then Bennem…" He paused; it was painful to speak of such things. "…Bennem went to Fashnek. He didn't really deserve it—not _twice_. Twice… and then I hated them. Ferek, they've gone and done the same to you… they've killed your sister. They've taken her from you."

He noticed that Ferek had begun to tremble, swallowing every few seconds and whimpering.

"I'll ask you again, now…" Crow half-whispered. "Are the Chosen above us? Do you trust and agree with them? Were they right when they killed your sister, Ferek?"

Ferek burst into tears, sobbing and shaking all over. He leaned forward and buried his face in Crow's shoulder. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Crow stiffened. His heart felt light again, released, only for an instant. "It's alright. It's not your fault." He pulled Ferek into a soft, tentative hug. Quite suddenly he felt nearly every muscle in the boy's body trembling in frightened, uncontrolled spasms. Crow had never imagined it was possible to be completely consumed by fear and sorrow, but all the while he was reminded of himself, young and confused when Bennem had been lost to the nightmares.

As a young boy, Crow had cried against his brother, scared and alone, but Bennem could not respond. Perhaps Ferek felt the same… and now…

But Ferek has me, now, Crow thought. He won't turn out like I did.

Crow tightened his arms around Ferek, willing his sobs to ease. "It's alright. We… Bennem and I… we'll take care of you now.

* * *

"What can we do?" Ferek asked that night. He, Crow, Bennem, and the girl from before—her name was Inkie—were sitting at the bedside.

"We cannot do much alone," Inkie said. It was the first time Ferek had heard her speak. "But, if some of the Underfolk would rally together…"

Crow nodded and frowned bitterly. "It is an idea. But too many of the Underfolk have lost the ability to think for themselves… there will never be enough of them to do anything substantial."

"It… it's a start," Ferek said. "It can be just us for now… I'm sure we'll find others."

Crow ran a hand along the feather in his hat, musing. "A secret organization, and a fight for freedom.

"Freedom for the Underfolk?"

Crow nodded, but Bennem suddenly grunted. All eyes turned to him in surprise and anticipation. His eyes had cleared, and he looked at each one of them individually, a smile on his face.

"All," he said. "Freedom for all."

And then he was gone again, eyes losing their focus and smile fading. Inkie cried silently, wiping away the tears, and said, "Freedom for all… no Orders, no Underfolk. Just… everyone."

For a moment Crow thought of protesting, but then he stopped himself. If it was Bennem's will… he would agree. It was for the better. If only the Underfolk rose above, the Red Level would become the workforce. It would never end.

"Freefolk."

It was Ferek who had spoken.

He blushed a bit and looked down. "For a name, I suppose… Underfolk for Freedom… Freefolk."

Crow looked at him and then smiled. "I like it, Ferek. Freefolk…"

Ferek smiled with triumphant eyes.

"The founding of the Freefolk, then," Inkie said in her placid voice. "For all… Chosen and Underfolk alike."

They stood. Even Bennem got to his feet, a determined look on his burly face.

"Freedom," Crow said, and they put their hands together.

Standing in the circle with his newfound companions, Ferek felt the shattered pieces of his hope inside his heart slowly piece themselves back together. The cracks and scars would remain, and Ferek would always fear the shadows.

But he would fight for his people… no, for the entire Castle.

And he would fight for Tari.

Watch me, sister, he thought. I'm going to make you proud.

-FIN-

* * *

End Note: And that, my people, is how Ferek found Crow and the Freefolk were founded.

It's done! My first finished multi-chapter fanfic… aww, I hope it was good. I think it turned out well… thank you to those who read it. =)

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